Now her paints are dry
And I looked outside
At the corner boys

Ayh, oh, where did you go?
I don't know.

I went to see your pictures
I spread them across the floor
So this is where they are shown
Now they're probably saying to you,
If you keep it up you'll be born.

But you won't ever listen,
I'll bet

Burnt out, grass scorched by the sun.
The buildings remain.

We will beat them all to dust,
I'll bet

Pulled from a headless shell
That blinked on and off, Hotel.
Now the nameless dwell.

They hold your key and turn your knob,
I'll bet

Will you say hello to my ma?
Will you pay a visit to her?
She was an artist, just as you were.
I'd have introduced you to her.

She would take me out on Sundays.
We'd go laughing through the garbage.
She repaired legs like a doctor
On the kitchen chairs we sat on.

She was unhappy, just as you were.
Unhappy, just as you were.
Unhappy, just as you were.
Unhappy, just as you were

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): DAVID MICHAEL NAVARRO, ERIC ADAM AVERY, PERRY FARRELL, STEPHEN ANDREW PERKINS